


Beholder

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo finds that dwarves have a very different idea of beauty than hobbits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beholder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MocaJava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MocaJava/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Bilbo asks the dwarves what is considered sexy by their standards and is shocked to find out that Bombur is considered the very height of dwarven sexiness. That magnificent beard! His impressive girth! bonus points for the other dwarves showing jealousy and/or lust over Bombur's features.” prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/11476.html?thread=23535572#t23535572).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

For some bizarre reason Bilbo doesn’t at all understand, the dwarves seem quite happy to set up camp for their first meal since Rivendell. The mountains are decidedly less pleasant than Elrond’s very homely house, a rock a poor excuse for a chair after the nice stools the elves prepared, yet the dwarves are in perfect spirits. They break off into separate factions instead of their usual tight knit circle, probably because they’ve yet to come across any flat surfaces large enough for the lot of them. Bilbo takes his seat between Fíli and Kíli on a trail of misshapen rocks, idly watching Nori and Bofur stir the large pot on the next plateau over.

But the thing that’s bugged Bilbo the most is that the dwarves’ usual lewd stories have resumed, and none of them is the least bit affected by the elves. Not one of them has mentioned how beautiful Lindir’s trim figure was, or how Elrond’s hair would glisten just so when it caught the light. There seems to be no appreciation whatsoever for their delicate fingers, long limbs, silken locks and crisp style. Maybe Kíli snuck in a mocking word here or there, but no one speaks of it openly, and Bilbo’s starting to wonder if there’s some enchantment on Rivendell that shows dwarves ugly trolls in the place of its truly dazzling citizens.

So, now that he has a chance to talk to some of the less experienced and therefore least raunchy of their company, Bilbo clears his throat for attention and tries to delicately phrase, “Fíli, Kíli, do either of you... well, do all dwarves, I should say... that is, _what_ do you—or, no, I suppose _who_ —do you find... erm... _sexy_?”

Both of the brothers turn in to look at him. They both appear mildly surprised at his question, probably because up until now, he’s been such a proper fellow. But he _has_ been traveling amidst a pack of rowdy dwarves, and now he’s downright curious.

Then, without any hesitation, Fíli sighs, “Bombur.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows knit together, sure he’s misunderstood.

“Don’t take that tone,” Kíli mutters, sounding equally forlorn. “At lease you’ve got a better shot than I do; you’re crown prince: you’re a catch for anyone.”

“Not for _him_ ,” Fíli insists, and now Bilbo’s sure they’re not joking, because he can see the true disappointment on both their faces. Picking up the end of one of the intricate braids that stems off his mustache, Fíli lets it fall and grumbles, “With these pathetic braids? It would take a hundred to make up Bombur’s enormous one.”

“At least you _have_ braids. My beard’s never going to get there.”

Even with his conclusion, Bilbo interjects, “Are you two serious?”

“Of course,” they chirp in unisons, squinting at him as though _he’s_ the strange one. It’s Fíli that asks, “Have you _seen_ his beard? He could wrap you right up in it!”

“Imagine him tossing it around you, pulling you in with it like a rope,” Kíli mutters huskily, staring, hazy-eyed, out into the distance. A small tremor runs through Fíli’s body, his face taking on the same look. 

Bilbo splutters, “But... he’d crush you.”

Kíli snorts. “A hobbit, maybe, but any dwarf who stood a chance of being worthy of a man like that would be able to take it.”

“Just barely,” Fíli breathes. “Who wouldn’t want to be crushed under Bombur’s thick, fat weight? I bet his body’s always warm. And he’d have beautiful, complicated stretch marks—plenty of places to trace with your tongue—you’d never get bored, always somewhere new to touch, to taste—” He breaks off with a shiver. 

“His girth is _so_ impressive,” Kíli agrees, looking as lost. “I wonder how much is muscle and how much is fat? Good either way, of course—either strong or soft, both what you want in the bedroom. Ugh, I’d love to have that on top of me...”

“But we’ve got no shot; we’re too skinny,” Fíli concludes for both of them, and the wistful smile slips right of Kíli’s face. Bilbo always thought them the two most attractive dwarves of the lot, excusing Thorin, of course, but then, he’s a ‘halfling,’ as they all like to put it, and apparently not everyone in Middle Earth goes for small things. 

Still, when Bofur shows up with three bowls of soup balanced along his arm, Bilbo feels the need to double check: “Bofur, who’s the hottest dwarf?”

Bofur only looks surprised for one brief moment, but then, as he passes one bowl to Kíli, he begrudgingly answers, “Bombur. ...Though Nori’s not bad.”

Kíli waves his free hand. “Pfft. You’re just saying that because you can get Nori.”

“Yes,” Bofur answers crossly, shoving the other two bowls at Fíli and Bilbo, “but in case you forgot, Bombur’s my _brother_. And you’ll forgive me if I’ve had enough of every partner I’ve ever wanted fawning over Bombur instead—of course the first and only person who thinks I’m sexier is going to be sexier to me. And frankly, if I could forget about my brother’s sexbomb looks all together, I would.” With that, he turns and marches off. It’s the first time Bilbo’s ever seen _anything_ rile Bofur up, who’s normally so even-tempered and cheerful.

It leaves Bilbo speechless. 

He takes a glance at Thorin, who’s over by the pot, getting soup from Nori. All of a sudden, Bilbo feels that the pressure is very much _on_. Before, Bilbo and the dwarves were simply very different people. But now, they’re very different people, and if Bilbo wants any of them, he’ll apparently have to compete with a total Dwarven sexbomb who leaves princes moaning just to talk about. 

Bilbo looks down at his own round—but not nearly so round as Bombur’s—stomach.

And then he starts shoving soup into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow, because his girth isn’t going to beef up itself.


End file.
